


You Feel Better?

by lexiangrybird99



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games), Red Dead Redemption 2
Genre: I Tried, M/M, Maybe OOC, Porn With Plot, Strap-On, both of them are trans, briefly nothing big, but enough to warn i guess, canonical violence, graphic description of arthur's wound?, hopefully i kept both in character, i suck at summaries, i used grammarly so i apologize if there's anything wrong, like not so graphic, we stan trans men, wound care
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-03-08 23:22:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18904741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lexiangrybird99/pseuds/lexiangrybird99
Summary: Dutch gave the task to rob some rich lady to Charles and Arthur, apparently the payout significant. Wound care and sex ensures.





	You Feel Better?

**Author's Note:**

> so I wrote this and took a couple of days. I tried to keep the characters in character as much as I could. Thank you for clicking on my fic,,

The sound of pounding hooves was what woke Arthur, it startled him into instinctively to grab his gun. He sat up swiftly and drew his pistol from his holster, which was still on his person, as quietly as he could. Where he made camp last night was behind a rather large grassy hill, where he had to climb up of if he wanted to see whose horse was galloping.

 _I shouldn't have camped where it was so fuckin' hard to see other fellers_. Arthur growled in frustration. He got up in a crouch position and made his way up the hill's incline. As he went further and further from his campsite, the harder it was to see. Arthur gave another growl of frustration when he realized it was still at least night time or in the very early hours of the morning, meaning he maybe slept for a few hours at most. _I'm gonna kill whoever decided to fuck with me._

As Arthur was about to approach the crest of the hill, he cocked his gun and took care not to be too loud in the otherwise silent night. When he peaked the crest, Arthur quickly pointed his gun at whatever woke him up.

"Whoever's here better come out now," Arthur called out, squinting at the dark shaped only a couple of yards or so away from him. The silhouette briefly jumped before going for their horse. "I wouldn't do that if I were you," Arthur called again, he made sure to try and aim at what he thought was the person's arm.

"Arthur?" The silhouette asked, turned around to face him. "Arthur Morgan?" It was a familiar accent, Arthur knew it all too well, unfortunately.

"Sean? Why are you here? Did Hosea or Dutch ask you to do something?" Arthur asked, as he walked towards the Irish man and quickly uncocked his pistol before he put it back in its holster. He heard rather than saw the other man give a chuckle.

"Aye, Dutch did, he told me to find ye, said you were around here somewhere. He told me to take you to help Charles, and to explain on the way there what's the plan." Sean responded, grabbing his horse's reins and lead to where Arthur's camp was. "I reckon that you were sleeping, yea?"

Arthur sighed, and rubbed his forehead. "You reckon right, what you said 'bout Dutch? Somethin' 'bout a plan and Charles?"

"Well, how about I explain it over a cup o' coffee? Got me kettle and me own cup, you want some?" Sean asked, already in his horse's cargo to receive the supplies to do so. To which Arthur just agreed and decided to get his campfire to come to life again.  
-  
When Arthur awoke again, it was to Sean's hot morning breath gracing his nose. His green eyes squinted at the Irish man, then sat up and shoved the other man away. It seems like sometime during the night the Irish man rolled next to him. Arthur the squinted at the sky, contemplating what time it was for a moment before he decided that it was at most eight or so in the morning. He went on with his morning routine: pack his bedroll, drink his morning coffee, feed himself and his horse, then finally groom his horse.

At the end of his routine, Arthur walked to the still sleeping Sean and nudged him with his foot. "Sean," he called, as he slightly increased how hard he was nudging the other man. "Sean, get yer ass up! I'm leaving!"

He watched as Sean jolt and give a rather loud snort as he woke up. Arthur spent another thirty or so minutes with the other man before he parted ways and started to head to where Charles was, a couple of towns away.  
-  
It was a while, maybe a couple of hours, Arthur wasn't too sure, but he ended up where was needed. After a few fights with random townsfolk when he accidentally bumped into them. _Saint Denis...what's the saint part for? Nobody here's a saint._ Arthur thought bitterly, rubbing his forming black eye. As he remembered, Charles was in one of the saloons, at least he surely hoped. The first establishment he visited had shady people just as shady as the building was. He couldn't be too mad altogether, the owner told the drunks to leave or be banned. Really it was because Arthur got rid of some rats for the owner twice before, which made being punched in the face almost worth it when he saw the drunks' expressions. He shook the memory from his mind as he spotted the only other saloon in the city, it was right across the street from him. Arthur then got off his horse and hitched it to a nearby hitching post. He then patted his horse  farewell before walking the distance to the establishment.

He opened the fancy wooden doors and headed directly towards the bartender. A nice whiskey would take his mind off his throbbing face. As soon as he approached the counter to order, right a hand grabbed his right arm, instinctively Arthur went to yank his arm free from the grasp before a nice familiar voice spoke softly in his ear.

"I've been waiting for you, Dutch said you'd be here before noon."

Arthur gave a snort, turning his head towards Charles. "Yea well maybe he should've sent someone who knew what saloon instead of telling me," he put his hand up to make air quotes, contorting his voice to imitate their Irish friend. "'One of them saloons, I reckon. There's only two of them, yea? Charles in one of them.' then ramble about his Da, again."

"Oh yeah, what about?" Charles asked, leading Arthur to the table he was sitting at prior. He motioned to a chair as he took the opposite chair and sat down.

"I don't know, something about his Da going to every saloon looking for somebody, don't remember." The men looked at each other before laughing briefly and shaking their heads.

"I see there's a bottle of whiskey here, so I'm assuming this plan of Dutch's is gonna be rather long?" Arthur asked, giving a small nod towards the bottle in the middle of the table.

Charles shook his head and grabbed the glass that sat right next to the bottle. "I was just thirsty is all, happens when a man has to wait a couple of hours for his company to join him. He's inclined to keep himself company." He took the shot, then poured another and gave it to Arthur.

"Sorry then," replied Arthur, before downing the shot in one gulp. He then lowered his voice and leaned towards the other man, "Sean said there was some sort of coach holding some rich family's jewels? Why'd that get Dutch's attention?"

"When he was in the saloon in Rhodes, said there was some old man boasting about his rich wife who lives upstate near Van Horn. Something about she being a widow before she met him, blah blah blah. But turns out she's known to have some big house and loads of money on her person and in her coach. She's putting money in the Saint Denis bank. A thousand dollars, for each of us even."

Arthur nodded thoughtfully, he then grabbed the whiskey bottle that Charles still nursed in his hands. He poured himself another drink, and still in a lowered voice, "So is the stagecoach gonna be headed over to Saint Denis? That's why we're over here?"

Charles nodded and waited until the other man finished his shot before taking the glass and bottle back. He capped the bottle and placed the glass on the table. "We go to the country part right outside of Saint Denis. Wait there and take them by surprise." His eyes narrowed and leaned forward on his hands as he gave the white man a glare with no heat to it. "We have to leave soon, y'know. Since someone took too long to get here." The other man flushed partially in embarrassment and shook his head.

"Alright, let's go before it'll be too late. What time is it? Two? Three?" Arthur asked, pushing himself out of his chair. He then pulled out one of the many pocket watches out of his satchel. "Says here, it's four. By the time we reach there, it'll be like six maybe seven." Arthur answered his own question. He looked at the other man and inclined his head towards the door. Charles chuckled at him and shook his head, but got up nonetheless.

"You lead the way cowboy since I had to wait on you."  
-  
"When this coach supposed to be here, Charles?" Arthur roughly whispered to the other man, who sat right next to him behind a rather large rock. "It's midnight and there ain't no sign of anybody coming this way!"

"Give it time, Arthur," the other man replied, yanking the white man back down from where he peaking at the road. "Dutch said night time. This still counts as night, now will you shut it?" Charles huffed quietly, looking at Arthur's weathered face.

"Something don't feel right, I just don't know. On the way here you said the coach wasn't supposed to be very guarded right?"

"Yes, that's what Dutch told me-" Charles was cut off.

"But if it weren't very guarded you'd think it passed us by now, right?" Arthur's eyebrows furrowed as he leaned over to peak at the road again. "It's probably so guarded that they have to take this long, that's the only reason." He concluded, scratching at his stubbly jaw.

"If you don't shut up, I'll make you shut up, cowboy," Charles growled, yanking Arthur to sit back down again. "You need to wait and see. It could be late, it could just be a couple of guards or way too many. We have no choice but to wait and see, Arthur." He hissed in the other man's ear.

Arthur made a small 'tsk' noise and scratched under his chin. He needed to shave, the stubble is irritating him more often than not. He sat there next to the other man in silence, having nothing to say besides wanting to check the road again. Several minutes passed, still no wagon and both men sat behind the rock without breathing a word to each other. Arthur dug in his satchel and looked for one of the many pocket watches he owns, just to check the time. Finally finding one of the damned things, he quickly clicked it open and tilted it as much as he could towards the moon. The watch read that it was one in the morning, which made Arthur swear softly to himself and closed the watch. He then shoved it angrily into his bag and looked at Charles, and raised his arms in an exasperated manner.

"Charles, it's one in the damn morning! Now if that ain't something that smells fishy, then your nose ain't workin' feller." Arthur growled in frustration, getting up to crouch to peak over the rock, yet again.

The other man blinked slowly, his eyebrows furrowing briefly before turning towards Arthur. Charles released a rather long sigh at the white man before closing his eyes and tilted his head back. "I'll tell you what, we wait another half hour. If that rich lady and her coach aren't here by then, we'll leave and tell Dutch she was a no-show. That sound fair?"

To which, Arthur just narrowed his eyes and gave a half shrug and turned back to the road. He softly sighed and sat back down next to Charles, his head lightly hitting the rock as he went to lean against it. A couple of minutes later, Arthur turned his head towards the mix man and stared, not saying a thing.

"What is it?" Charles questioned, not even looking at the other.

"You mad at me?"

"Why are you asking me this question?" It was Charles' turn to look at Arthur and stare back at him. "I'm not mad at you, just annoyed. At everything, not just you." He gave a small chuckle.

"What can I do to make you not mad at me no more?" asked Arthur, his eyes looking like a puppy. Which in turn made Charles chuckle so softly, and lean in towards him.

"How about you give me a kiss, cowboy. Then we'll see how I feel about you after, hm?" Charles huskily whispered, as he gently connected his lips to Arthur's. Both of them leaned even more into each other, there was no heat in it, not really. Their lips only moved slowly against each other, soft and quiet. No tongues or teeth, just their lips gliding against each other. Soon they pulled away from one another, panting slightly and stared into each other's eyes.

"You not mad at me anymore?" Arthur whispered, his tongue briefly licked at his lips. His eyes constantly shifting between looking back at Charles' gaze or Charles' lips.

The mix man only gave a small smile and leaned forward again, his nose just about brushing against the white man's. Charles gave another kiss, this time more briefly more like a peck on the lips really. Arthur leaned in for more, but only received a small push at his chest before the other man pulled away.

"I'm not mad at you anymore," Charles stated, resting the side of his head on the rock that they were hiding behind. "But I'd rather not start something that I can't finish until later."

Before the other man could reply, there was the sound of thunderous hooves on the road. To which both men jumped to their feet and crouched, quickly pulling out their guns and peered from behind the large rock. To their left was a fancy coach, the lanterns swinging precariously with how fast the horses were galloping. There were two men seated in the front, the one driving cracking the reins viciously to make the horses go faster. The other man sat leaning forward, shotgun in his hand, squinting into the night. The coach was only ten or so yards away from the two hidden men. As the vastly approaching coach into a relatively clearer part of the trail, both Charles and Arthur cocked their guns and aimed at the men in the front and pulled their triggers. Both the driver and the guard fall instantaneously, one falling on a horse and bouncing off, and the other simply going limp and falling sideways to take the whole seat.

Charles and Arthur then ran out from behind the rock upon seeing there were guards in the coach, one climbed to the front to take control of the vehicle, another hung out of the door with a rifle. Two more appeared on the other side of the coach, both with pistols. A shower of bullets caused Arthur and Charles to go back into hiding, the two of them only being able to shoot a couple of shots each before going behind the rock.

"Fuck," Shouted one of the guards. "I knew we should've come earlier!" A bullet hit the rock where Arthur and Charles crouched. The coach rode past them, which made Arthur curse himself as he attempted to shoot at the guard that was driving.

"C'mon, they're gettin' away!" Arthur growled before whistling for his horse to come. He began running after the coach as he saw how far it was getting. He heard Charles also whistle for his own horse, both animals cantered to their respective owners. As soon as his horse was close enough to him, Arthur heaved himself on to the animal, and simply told it 'let's go, girl, let's go' and it started to gallop. Soon enough Charles and Arthur were side by side, dodging bullets left and right and firing their own. Charles managed to shoot the guard that had the rifle, making the man fall out of the coach and be trampled by his horse. Yet another guard stood up and took the fallen one's place, he also had a pistol just as the other two that were on the opposite side of him. The replacement driver then made the horses turn into a smaller trail that was almost swallowed by dense trees, forcing the other three guards to go back into the coach.

"Arthur!" Charles called, reloading his sawed-off shotgun. "Can you take out the guards in the coach? I'm going to try and take control of the damned thing!"

"I don't know where you been feller, but as you can see we've been trying to do just that!" Arthur replied as he reloaded his own carbine repeater. "But I'll try, if you can't get the coach, shoot the wheel!"

Charles didn't respond, instead, he urged his horse to go faster, "C'mon, Taima just a little faster."

Arthur cocked his rifle, looking through his scope to get a better look at the inside of the coach. There were only three more men, not including the man in front, which made Arthur breathe a small sigh of relief. He inhaled and pointed his rifle to the head of one of closer men, seeing him going to shoot Charles. He pulled the trigger and the man's head was no more, his body bouncing and falling to the coach's floor as the coach hit a bump. Arthur swiftly shot the man that sat next to the deceased, but the bullet fell short of its mark just a hair because the coach hit yet another bump. Instead of being another headshot, the bullet lodged itself in the victim's shoulder. The victim yelled and gripped his shoulder, dropping his pistol. The other guard grabbed it and pointed both guns in Arthur's direction. The guard swiftly emptied the pistols at Arthur, in which for the most part Arthur was able to make his horse swerve out of the way.

Unfortunately, as well as he was dodging the bullets, one of them stayed true and hit the mark. Pain shot up and down Arthur's arm, making him holler in pain. He briefly looked down and noticed that his right bicep sleeve began to blossom scarlet. The blood quickly started to soak into the sleeve, spreading from both the front and the back of his arm. At least it came out, Arthur thought very briefly before aiming his gun at his attacker. He shot at the guard two times, killing him with a bullet through his throat on the second shot. Before he could aim at the final guard, he had to dodge a rather low branch by ducking. As soon as he straightened, he saw the final guard pick up one of the pistols in the coach, and shoot at his horse's hooves.

The next thing Arthur saw was the ground, or really the coach getting further and further away from him, and Charle's Taima. To be honest, the man couldn't move, he landed on his wounded arm and all Arthur could do was slowly roll over to his stomach. Even more slowly did he get up, Arthur need to move faster in order to help Charles, but despite his adrenaline? Arthur ached. His horse was up when he got up on his feet, to which Arthur very briefly patted his horse and apologized quickly. Arthur grabbed his rifle off the ground, then he hoisted himself back on his animal and squeezed its girth to urge it to a gallop.

As his horse finally caught up to the coach, the coach was pulled over and the two leftover guards had bullets in them. Arthur then got off his horse, pulling out his rifle again as a safety precaution.

"Charles?" Arthur called out, as he approached the coach. Taima was a couple of yards away, munching on a patch of nearby grass, which told him that that the other man was still here.

"Over here," Charles replied, he was by the front of the coach untying the horses. Arthur made his way to the front of the vehicle, taking care to loot the dead bodies. "I saw you fall off your horse as I took out the driver," chuckled Charles.

"Yeah, well, won't my fault the feller shot at my horse hooves." Arthur retorted, finally slinging his rifle on his shoulder of his good side. He was beside the coach, looking in it to see if there was any loot inside. "Anyway, you look at the payout?"

The horses were set free, Charles swatting at both of their behinds to make them run away. "No, not yet. It's locked though, you have to shoot the lock off."

Arthur only made a vaguely affirmative noise before turning around and going to the loot box in the back of the coach. He took out his pistol on his right side, hissing slightly at still throbbing arm. Cocking his gun, Arthur quickly shot the lock off and holstered his pistol. He then finally decided to stanch the damned bleeding in his right bicep. Arthur shook his head slightly before grabbing the ruined sleeve through the bullet hole and pulled downwards. The shirt seams ripped effortlessly, making a rather loud tearing noise. His sleeve was now split in half from right above his bicep, through his cuff on one side. Arthur then reached to the back of his arm, pulling at the other hole until it too ripped all the way through the cuff. He then picked whichever flap was closer to his hand, and tore the fabric from the shoulder seam in a couple of harsh tugs. After the fabric came off, albeit jagged and sloppy, Arthur wrapped it around his arm twice. He looped the fabric clumsily with two fingers and his thumb, grabbed one end of the loop with his index and thumb and bit into the other end of the loop. Arthur pulled, the fabric tightened against his bicep nicely to which Arthur repeated the process once more to make a nice firm knot. Looking at his handiwork, Arthur gave a small nod at it and turned his attention back to the lock box.

Arthur briefly looked up, noticing a figure in his peripheral vision. He blinked at Charles, who was leaning against the corner of the coach staring at him. "What?" Arthur prompted, opening the box and looking inside.

Charles only shook his head and tilted his head to the box. "How much?" He looked like he wanted to say more, but he stayed silent.

Arthur shrugged and counted the stacks. After counting the money, he gave a low whistle and chuckled. "Dutch was right, look at this," he pulled out all the stacks of money, six in total. "Looks here three thousand in total. We my friend, hit the jackpot." He tossed half of the money towards Charles, double checking to make sure that there was nothing else in the lock box before turning back towards the mixed man.

"How's your arm?" Charles asked, standing straight (yea right) and walked so he was right in front of Arthur.

"I'll live," replied Arthur.

Charles frowned, his eyes narrowing and stared at the other man's arm. He made a brief 'tsk' noise and shook his head. "Let's leave before anyone notices us or the coach."  
-  
The pair rode to an abandoned house, together because Charles told Arthur that they had to look after his arm, it couldn't wait until they went back to camp. It was near five or so in the morning, Arthur guessed. The sky was still dark, but it was lightened a fraction of a hair, indicating it was going to be light soon. They both patted their horses as they dismounted, letting them know that they could go roam and eat grass. Both men walked around the house to make sure there was nobody was in or around the house, before going inside.

"Let's look at that arm," Charles stated, putting a hand on the small of Arthur's back and led him to the rather large bed in the corner of the room. "Lucky I had a feeling I needed to bring a small kit of medical supplies."

"I ain't gonna die, Charles. Look, the bullet came out, I'll be fine." Arthur insisted, but still lifted his arm to allow Charles to look at the bandaging. The other man untied the knot and unwrapped the fabric.

Arthur opened his mouth to say something when he heard the other man sigh, but Charles fixed him with a stare that shut him up. The mixed man prompted him to sit down on the mattress with a rather firm grip and push on his shoulder, to which Arthur complied and stayed silent. Charles shook his head, turned away from him, and started to head for the door. Right before he opened it, he looked back at Arthur and narrowed his eyes. "Stay, I'll be right back. Taima has something I need to treat that arm of yours." He then walked out of the house.

Only a moment passed and Charles was in the house again, holding two bottles, and a couple of sacks. He approached the bed in a few strides and placed one of the bottles and one of the sacks on the floor right next to Arthur's leg. Charles \put the other two items on the bed next to Arthur on the bed. Without saying a word, Charles opened the bottle that was on the bed and poured its contents around the wound. Arthur gave a small hiss at the burn, it felt like vodka. Charles then opened the sack on the bed and grabbed a small square gauze, using it to clean around the wound taking care to dab little to no alcohol on the actual wound, but instead cleaning the dirt off around it. He proceeded to do the same on the other side of Arthur's arm, lifting it so he can get a better clean and look at the exit wound. After gently scrubbing at the areas around both the entry and exit wounds, Charles put the dirty gauzes on the opposite side of Arthur. He then grabbed a longer gauze that was wrapped around itself and went to work wrapping around Arthur's arm. It took a moment to finish wrapping Arthur's arm, but once he finished he checked to see if it was too tight.

"The wrap too tight?" Charles questioned softly, looking at the other man's face to see if there was any discomfort.

"Naw, just right I think," replied Arthur, moving his hands so they sat gently on Charles' waist. "Thank you." He whispered softly, as he looked into Charles' eyes.

Charles only responded with pressing his lips against the other man's, his own hands coming up to cup his face and neck. Their lips slid against each other, making soft smacking sounds. They continued for a couple of minutes before Charles pulled away, thumbing at the other man's jaw to compensate for the loss of touch.

"Let me get rid of the waste before we do anything," Charles told Arthur before grabbing the bloodied mess and scanned the room briefly before spotting a bucket in the corner of the room. He walked over to the bucket and tossed the mess inside. Charles walked back to the other man and grabbed the bottle he left on the bed and dumped a very small bit on is hand to clean them off before capping it and putting it on the floor with the other bottle. Quickly he dried the remaining alcohol on his pants and stepped in between Arthur's legs, again cradling the other's jaw and neck. "Now, where were we?"

"I don't know, how 'bout you remind me?" Arthur suggested, putting his hand back on Charles' waist and craned his neck up to look into the other's eyes. To which Charles leaned forward and pressed his lips against Arthur's, a small quirk to his lips.  
-  
They're laying down on the bed, at some point through their heaving kissing and panting they moved up so that Charles was laying on top of Arthur, and in between his legs. Arthur's hands were gripping Charles' hair like a lifeline while his arms were wrapped around the other man's neck. Their lips smacking loudly and their tongues tangled languidly against one another. In no hurry, their hips started to move, Charles leaning on his elbows as he ground heavily against Arthur's hips, the other man helpless to do anything else but groan hotly and buck his hips to meet the other's. They continued for several minutes, taking breaks from kissing only to catch their breaths before slipping their tongues back together.

"Fuck," Arthur grunted, panting as he stilled his hips. "As much as this is fun, I think we should take some our clothes off, dontcha think?"

Charles chuckled and groaned softly before he stilled his own hips. "Alright, cowboy. Take your pants off while I get ready." Then stood up to grab the other bag and bottle that he left on the floor earlier.

Arthur complied without saying a word, undoing his bandolier and belt. He then unhooked his suspenders from his pants and unbuttoned them. He stood up next to Charles, taking off his boots and then his pants. Arthur looked at the other man, who only had his shirt on, his pants and boots laid in a pile next to the bed. Arthur sat back on the bed, his lips quirking up while he watched the other man put on his strap-on. Charles inserted one end of the quartz cock into the hole, which was long enough so he was able to insert it into himself making him groan. The other end stuck straight, only barely curving upwards. Looking at the quartz cock made Arthur's mouth water as he reached down between his thick hairy legs to rub at his cock.

Charles turned to face Arthur, the pink cock glittered in the new morning sun that filtered through the shredded curtains. "Get up on the bed, and spread yourself." He commanded, swiftly bending down to grab the bottle he left earlier off the floor. He uncorked the bottle and poured a healthy amount of its contents onto his hand before handing it to Arthur. Charles lubed up the quartz cock, thoroughly covering every inch of it.

Arthur scooted further up on the bed, his furry thighs falling helplessly open at the sight of Charles lubing the cock. His one hand idly rubbing at his cock and the other one still grasping the bottle, his knuckles turning white as Charles climbed on the bed. Charles shuffled on his knees, getting in between the other's fuzzy legs. He grabbed the bottle from Arthur's hand, and poured more of the lubricant on his fingers, then handed the bottle back to Arthur.

"What's-" A groan escapes his mouth as he felt his lips spread and fingers into him. "What's, in the uh, bottle Charles?" Arthur asked, canting his hips up to meet Charles' fingers.

"Olive oil," Charles replied, crooking his fingers as he pushed in making Arthur moan loudly as he stroked at that spot. "I got it at the general store before going to the saloon."

Arthur bit back a moan, gasping as Charles withdrew his fingers, and lined the quartz cock with his hole. Gently, Charles pushed in, rocking to penetrate both of them. The mixed man paused for a moment, letting the other adjust to the quartz cock. As soon as he felt the other's heels dig into the small of is back, Charles started a slow but punishing rhythm. Making calculated thrusts aiming to hit the other's g-spot, and slamming his hips hard. Both men were groaning, every thrust into Arthur made the toy shift in Charles. The mixed man grabbed the other's right leg and hoisted it up so Arthur's knee was on his shoulder, making him spread his legs and tilted his hips up to make the toy go deeper.

Arthur cursed, and made a noise equivalent to as if he choked on his tongue. Charles picked up the pace, using one arm to pin the hoisted leg to is body, and the other arm laid next to Arthur's head. His body bent in half and Charles caged him to him. Both of them moaned at the new position, the pace jostled the toy brutally in Charles, making him whine and lean over to kiss Arthur. The other man couldn't get enough of Charles, his arms wound around Charles' neck, his tongue clashing with the other's. This continued, the kissing and brutal pace, only pausing to breathe or letting Charles' muscles rest. They switched positions, Arthur was on top of Charles, back towards as he took care not to lean any weight on the injured arm. At some point Arthur's legs became too tired, so he sat whining and moaning on the quartz cock, swiveling his hips to stimulate both of them.

"Face me," Charles moaned, bucking his hips when the toy in him hitting that spot in him. "Wanna see you."

"Fuck, okay," Arthur grunted, his chest heaving in exertion. He pulled off the toy, swinging his leg so he could face Charles. He leaned his weight on his good arm, and straddled the other, positioning the toy and promptly sat down. The action caused a rather loud moan to come out of him, his already flushed face turning redder as he clapped his lips shut. Charles facial expression because it caused Arthur to swiveled his hips once more before he positioned himself better, and started to ride with earnest. Bouncing harshly, Arthur leaned forwards so he was chest to chest to the other man, as close to chest to chest as their shirts would allow them. He buried his face into the other's neck, moving the collar of Charles' to lave at the other man's neck and the junction of the shoulder. Charles, in turn, moaned loudly when he felt the other's lips suck on his neck, knowing full well it was going to leave a hickey. He thrust in time when Arthur came down, wanting to make the other come first. Charles reached down in between their legs and started to rub desperately at Arthur's cock, making the white man release a high-pitched whine before stilling completely.

"C-Charles," Arthur whined into his ear. "Cumming, Charles!" His body giving a couple of small aborted bounces onto the quartz cock and Charles's hand before falling limp onto the other man. Only a moment passed before Arthur got off the toy, giving a shudder at the feeling of the fake cock slipping out of him, wet with his release. He unhooked the strap-on from Charles withdrawing the other end the toy completely, making Charles whine at the loss. Arthur then leaned over to grab the bag it came out of and put it back in and closed the sack before putting it back on the floor.

"Get on," Arthur said as he proceeded to plop down right next to Charles, sliding so his head rested on one of the pillows. He patted his chest, "Ride my face."

"Goodman," Charles almost purred, before getting up and moving his knees to either side of Arthur's face. Arthur wrapped his arms around the both of Charles' thighs before lifting his head to meet the other halfway. He began to lave at the other's folds, his tongue barely dipping inside before curling up to lick at the other's cock. Arthur continued when Charles started to moan, the sound spurring him on. He slid down the bed a little, getting a better angle before going to town. Arthur stuck his tongue into Charles, making the other man really sit on his face, riding it like he was nothing but a service toy. His tongue stretching as far as it could go, curling to hit that spot in Charles that he absolutely knows will make his chin soaked by the end of this. Charles pushed down, riding Arthur's tongue groaning and gripping his hair. Arthur moved in time with Charles' thrusts, slurping up anything that came out of the man, giving a small wicked smile when it made the fingers in his grip even harder.

It was when Charles started to moan more frequently that Arthur took his tongue out, instead of tilting his head back as it could with the fingers in his hair and sucked at the other's cock, _hard_. His cheeks hollowed, sucking the cock like it's a lollipop. Arthur felt Charles cum on his face, the other man going utterly silent instead of warning him. It was fine, Arthur decided. He continued to suck as Charles' helpless ground into the feeling, his entire bottom half of his face soaked. Arthur gave a groan when he felt the thighs that cupped his face began to tremble, he began slurping up the mess he made before Charles tugged at his hair, telling him to stop with a grunt. Arthur gave one last lick before complying, giving Charles a small grin as the mixed man let his hair go. Charles swung his leg off Arthur and collapsed on the other side of the bed panting.

A moment of silence passed between them, the only thing that filled the air was their heavy panting. Charles rolled on to his side to look at Arthur, watching the other's chest go up and down as he tried to catch his breath. In turn, the white man just turned his head, his green eyes half-lidded as he stared at Charles' dark skin, trying to commit everything to memory.

"Y'know," Charles said softly as his hand came to rest on Arthur's chest. "We should get back to Dutch, who knows what time it is."

Arthur grunted, his weathered face contorting into displeasure before turning neutral. "How about," he offered, his left hand grabbed Charles' hand that was on his chest. He looked at the windows, the shredded moth-eaten curtains letting the sunlight of morning into the abandoned house. "We rest here awhile, then we go back to Dutch with the loot."

Charles looked at the other, his eyebrows furrowing together as he contemplated the idea. He gave a small smile as he answered, "I like that idea." Both of them laid on the bed, falling asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> i'll draw some nsfw art to go with this, but it'll be on my twitter: lexdrawsartshit it'll be in a couple or days or so.  
> edit 22 may 2019 eyy posted it finally,, link:  
> https://twitter.com/lexdrawsartshit/status/1131401152178733056


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